


Tell Me

by nothingventurred (nothingventured)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dicks, M/M, Porn, Spanking, cum, poooorn, pure porn guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingventured/pseuds/nothingventurred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on my headcanon I submitted to mystradeiscanon. Requested as a fic by mystradesexytimes.<br/>This is nothing but pure, gratuitous porn. Mycroft has a secret kink, and Lestrade indulges him.</p><p>Now with wonderful <a href="http://moriarteakettle.tumblr.com/post/39799094283/mystradesexytimes-soo-this-is-fanart-for-tell/">fanart</a> done by the amazing <a href="msaether.tumblr.com/">msaether</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystradeSexyTimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystradeSexyTimes/gifts).



"Oh, god!"

Mycroft tried to catch the bowl as it skittered across the counter and over the edge, but it was no use. The expensive china shattered all over the kitchen floor, and Mycroft groaned, reaching up to cover his face with his hands. Greg let out a soft chuckle, sipping his coffee. "Graceful." he remarked, earning him a dirty look from the messy-haired ginger. "Oh, shut up," Mycroft sneered, bending over to pick up the bowl.

Greg swallowed, the comedy of the situation quickly forgotten as soon as he caught a glimpse of Mycroft's arse. He loved Mycroft's arse at all times, there was no denying that, but when the usually dapper government official was clad in nothing but slim-fitting grey pyjama pants and an old t-shirt of Greg's, well. Let's just say that Greg's interest had been piqued in a big way.

He watched as Mycroft picked up the last of the pieces, the firm, round globes of his arse a mere arm's length from the DI's face. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and gave Mycroft's arse a firm spank, watching the muscles in his back ripple.

Mycroft stiffened and stood up abruptly, turning to look at Greg, shock evident in his features. "You hit me." he stated, tossing the shards in the bin. "No, I spanked you. Big difference," Greg retorted, a smile toying at his lips. Mycroft scoffed and rolled his eyes, then turned back to the cupboard to get another bowl. "You're a policeman. You should know domestic abuse is illegal." he muttered. Greg rolled his eyes and set down his coffee, then stood up and took a step towards the other man, snaking his arms around his waist. "Come on, Mycroft, it isn't-" Greg stopped when his hands hit something. Something very familiar. He craned his neck, and stared down at Mycroft's front, completely speechless; Mycroft's sleep pants were tented.

"You're hard," he croaked, the wheels in his head turning. He could feel Mycroft stiffen, but kept a firm hold on him. 

"Easy, easy," he murmured into his lover's ear, "Relax, love."

The tension seeped from Mycroft's shoulders, and was replaced by slight embarrassment. "Let me go," he muttered, struggling against Greg's hold. 

"Shh, baby," Greg whispered, "I said relax. I won't make fun of you."

Mycroft huffed, but stopped struggling. "I said unhand me." "What are you, a seventeenth century royal? C'mon, Myc, it's just me." Greg muttered, reaching up to tweak one of the ginger's nipples through his shirt. Mycroft sighed, and allowed Greg to run a hand through his hair. "Just...keep your mouth shut, please? Sherlock is-" "You really think I discuss our sex life with Sherlock? You're batshit." Greg chuckled; he leaned up to nuzzle at his neck, then kissed at his earlobe. "Now, why did I not know you liked to be spanked?" he murmured, reaching down to rub the hardness at Mycroft's groin. Mycroft shuddered, then dropped his head back on the other man's shoulder. "Because you'd..." Mycroft didn't finish, or rather, couldn't finish, because Greg had snaked his hand down into the other man's pants. Greg noticed with absolute delight that Mycroft wasn't wearing any undergarments. He tugged down the sleep pants, letting Mycroft's erection spring free, earning him a gasp from the other man. 

He leaned up and whispered in his lover's ear again, running his tongue over the shell of his ear.

"Hands on the counter. If you don't like it, all you have to do is say stop. Understand?"

Mycroft bit his lip and nodded, a moan escaping his lips as Greg's hands moved between his thighs, spreading them slightly. Mycroft hissed as he felt his partner's cold hands hit the sensitive skin. Suddenly, the hands were gone. He was about to protest, but two firm slaps on his backside silenced him. He bit his lip and groaned, his erection straining. This was painful, and humiliating, and oh _god_ he loved it more than was probably healthy.

"You like this, do you? You like it when I spank you," Greg murmured, his own cock pressing uncomfortably against his trousers. Mycroft sucked in a breath, ducked his head, and nodded almost imperceptibly. The DI smirked and brought his hand down on Mycroft's pale arse several more times, his arse cheeks turning from nearly white to a deep pink colour. Mycroft was moaning and crying out continuously now, his hands gripping the counter until his knuckles turned white. "Oh, god...." Mycroft bit his lip and bucked forward without thinking, instinctively trying to get away from the pain, but automatically snapping back for more. "Nope, just me," Greg chuckled, nipping at Mycroft's neck and soothing the sting away with his tongue. He would have hickeys tomorrow. What an amusing sight that would be; Mycroft Holmes, British Government, covered in hickeys. 

"You like this?" the silver-haired man murmured, "You like it when I mark you, when I make you mine. When I let everyone know that this is my property, and they're not allowed to touch."

Mycroft shuddered at Greg's words, nodding.

"Yes," he groaned, "Yes, oh god, _fuck_!"

Mycroft Holmes was not one to swear often. In fact, in the years that he'd known Mycroft before they'd started dating (and, subsequently, having sex), he wasn't even sure that Mycroft knew how to swear. But he did, and when he did, especially during sex, it was the single hottest thing in the world to Greg, to know that he was the one causing Mycroft to come undone.

"Lubricant." he breathed, mouthing at the nape of Mycroft's neck as he reached around to stroke his cock. Mycroft clumsily pulled one of the drawers all the way out, its contents spilling across the floor, the clattering going unnoticed by the two men. The pair kept a tube of lubricant on hand in nearly every room in both their flats since they begun dating; it was convenient, and sometimes amusing, if a guest happened upon one.

Greg let go of Mycroft's cock to fumble with the lube, and managed to pop open the top and get some on his fingers. "Bend over." he commanded, pressing two slick fingers against the base of Mycroft's spine. The other man shuddered and arched his back, letting out a sinful whimper. "Please," he breathed, pressing back against the fingers that were now pressed against his entrance. "Please, god, _please_..."

The DI smirked, then pushed two fingers in Mycroft in one go. Mycroft's jaw dropped, and he let out a high-pitched squeak that Greg couldn't help but giggle at. It turned him on to no end that he was the one doing this to Mycroft; he was the one making the Iceman come undone. He cupped Mycroft's balls in his other hand, rolling them between his fingers and tugging lightly. A light sheen of sweat now covered Mycroft's back, and he was keening deep in his throat.

A third finger found its way inside Mycroft, and the government official had had enough. "Gregory," he hissed, turning his head to glare at the DI, "Are you going to fuck me, or tease me?" Greg swallowed upon hearing Mycroft swear again, and pulled out his fingers, hastily slicking his cock with more lube than was strictly necessary, but he was past caring at this point.

He pushed into Mycroft with ease, pausing every inch or so to let him adjust. Mycroft, on the other hand, was more than eager to take Greg in to the hilt, and showed his desire for doing so by spreading his legs three inches further apart on either side. Not so wide as to cause him to fall, but wide enough so that his blatant want and need for his lover to be inside him was even more obvious. Greg placed his hands on the other man's hips and pushed all the way in, moaning in ardent passion as his cock was completely engulfed in Mycroft's slick tightness.

"You okay?" he breathed, obviously restraining himself from moving. 

"Yes, fine, get on with it already!" Mycroft hissed, wiggling his hips.

Greg smirked, then began to move in and out of Mycroft, slowly, torturously. Mycroft bit his lip, and Greg could practically feel the man's frustration. "I. Said. Get. On. With. It." Mycroft said through gritted teeth, articulating every word as if it were a death threat. The DI grinned, then began to thrust faster, harder. Mycroft stretched out his arms and gripped the opposite side of the counter, pressing his cheek against the cool granite as his lover pounded into him. Gregory reached around to grip Mycroft's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. He moved his thumb over the head, slick with precum, and tightened his grip on the thick cock. 

Mycroft felt the familiar heat coiling in his belly, and pushed back, meeting Gregory's thrusts with newfound enthusiasm. "I...oh god....so close....yes...please...oh, _god_..." Eloquence was lost on Mycroft during sex, and Gregory found that to be both disturbing and endearing. He could feel himself getting closer to his release, and picked up the pace, gripping Mycroft's shoulders and thrusting harder, deeper. He pulled one of his hands away and smacked Mycroft's left arse cheek, eliciting a soft cry from the other man. 

"Gregory, please...I'm going to.... _oh_!"

Mycroft let out a shout as he came, shooting sticky, white ropes onto the side of the counter, the fluid sticking to the side of the drawers. As Mycroft came down from his release, Gregory found his own, filling Mycroft with a thick, hot fluid. Mycroft rode out the orgasm with him, letting out soft cries that he knew would make Greg's orgasm that much better.

Greg pulled out of Mycroft a few moments later and groaned, leaning against him so his chest was pressed against Mycroft's freckled back. The two stood there, panting, for several long minutes, trying to regain their abilities to walk and speak. After a long while, Greg was able to stand up, and he took Mycroft's hand, running his fingers over his knuckles. "That was...christ, Mycroft," he chuckled.

"If I had known you liked it this much, I'd have spanked you a long time ago. God knows you irritate me enough." A breathy laugh escaped the government official, and he leaned against his lover as he stood, pulling up his trousers. He grimaced as he felt semen trickling down his thighs. "Good god, didn't you have the patience to put on a condom? Or at least warn me?" 

"I'm sorry, you were too busy begging me to fuck you, I didn't think you'd listen."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, and gave his lover a light smack on the rump. "Oi, quit that," the DI laughed, pulling the ginger closer. "Myc," he murmured seriously, "Tell me these things, yeah? We could have a lot of fun, and I won't leave. Hell, I _liked_ spanking you. It's fucking hot. Promise you'll let me know what you like next time, okay?"

Mycroft sighed, then pressed a kiss to Greg's lips.

"Okay."


End file.
